


Going Home

by An_Odd_Idea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crushed Ribs, Gen, He Actually Dies, Hurt Peter Parker, I’m sorry, Little bit of hurt/comfort, Peter Parker Dies, Peter’s on the run, Scared Peter Parker, Tony Comforts Peter, Tony comes to bring him home, Tony knows how much dying sucks, falls - Freeform, post-ffh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21627577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Odd_Idea/pseuds/An_Odd_Idea
Summary: Peter Parker dies from a fall while on the run because of Mysterio.  Tony is there to help him to the other side.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 357





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> This idea wouldn’t leave me alone, so I wrote it. I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry.
> 
> Please do not copy, print, or reproduce outside this site, I don’t want to get sued.

They were after him again, with their sirens and their guns and their dogs. Part of him wanted to give himself up, but he kept running. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. There was nothing to do but run.

Peter wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep running. Not without anyone to run to. His parents were dead. Ben was dead. Tony was dead. May and Happy had been forcibly hidden somewhere even he didn’t know, for their own safety. Ned and MJ had to keep a low profile or wind up the same. He couldn’t put Pepper and Morgan or any of the remaining Avengers at risk. It was just him, just running. Forever.

But still he ran. There was no other choice. 

He shot a web at the next building and leaped with exhausted muscles. Not far enough. The web didn’t reach, and he was falling, grasping at the air, but there was nothing to hold on to. The alley rushed up to meet him, and he gasped but never screamed. Then the old mailbox filled his vision, and everything went red.

Seconds (minutes? hours?) later, he opened his eyes, and his first thought was that he couldn’t breathe. He clawed the mask from his face- it was useless anyway- and struggled hard for air. Pain, sharp and crackling and constricting all at once, ripped through his chest.

It was like being under the building again, but this time nothing was pinning him. There was nothing to escape from. Gritting his teeth, Peter struggled to breathe again, managing to gasp in the shallowest possible breath. His chest felt like it was ripping apart, and his lungs were too heavy.

Peter was no fool- he had seen injuries like this before. His ribs were crushed; he didn’t have long.

Still he fought for air, whimpering in pain and fear. His vision was fading in and out, his body trembling uncontrollably, and he wanted to scream for help that would never come.

No one was coming. Even if they were, they couldn’t save him. Even if they could, they wouldn’t want to. Selfish tears slipped down Peter’s cheeks.

“Hey kid.”

Peter choked. He forced his eyes to focus on the face leaning over him, but it didn’t make sense. Not unless…

“Am I dead?”

“Not quite.”

Oh. That was good, he supposed.

“Mr. Stark?”

“I’m here now.”

That voice caused a fresh wave of tears to slip down his face, and he sobbed weakly when a hand grasped his.

“I’m here now, kid.”

“I-I’m sor-“

“Nope, none of that.” Tony’s other hand combed his hair back from his face. “You did good, Pete. You did so good.”

Peter dragged in another painful breath. “I can’t do this anymore!”

“You don’t have to.”

It should have been a relief. In a way, he supposed it was, but all he could do was fight against his own ribs for the next agonizing gasp of air, only for all his efforts to be wasted on a choked little sob. He couldn’t help it; he was so scared.

“You’re all right.” Tony’s fingers carded through his hair again, and he tried to focus on the comforting touch rather than the fact that his vision had gone too blurry to even make out the outline of the man’s face. “I’m gonna stay right here, and then you’re coming with me. Okay?”

“Where?” Peter squeaked out.

“Home.”

That sounded nice. It would have been nicer if he could breathe. Peter tried and failed to gasp in a last scrap of air, but his lungs no longer obeyed him. Panic gripped his heart, and he grasped blindly at Tony’s hand.

“I got you, kid.” There was an arm underneath him, a hand supporting his head. “This part’s awful, but it’s quick. Just focus on me, okay?” Tony squeezed his trembling fingers. “I’m here.”

Peter tried again to breathe, but again nothing happened. His body was going numb, and the world was turning dark.

“You’re safe. I’m right here.”

Safe? He could feel himself slipping. It was like falling all over again.

“You’re with me. I’m taking you home now.” 

Tony’s hand left his, and he would have reached for it if he had any strength left. Arms slipped under his back and his legs, and it didn’t hurt anymore when he was lifted up and held securely against a solid chest. 

“You’re doing so good, Pete. Almost there.”

He was so tired. His head leaned heavily on Tony’s shoulder, and it felt safe there. He hadn’t felt safe in such a long time.

“You can rest now.”

Yes, he could rest. He was safe. He was going home.

“Let go.”

Peter let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry
> 
> Lol, I’m not. Please do not copy, print, or reproduce outside this site, I don’t want to get sued.


End file.
